


All Desperate Times and Desperate Men

by cold_feets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_feets/pseuds/cold_feets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s the real bitch of it: Cas isn’t gone.  Just changed.  Just lost.  And none of them want to believe that he can’t be found again.  None of them want to admit that it’s time to start poring through lore to see if there’s anything about killing <i>God</i> because that’s what it’ll come to in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Desperate Times and Desperate Men

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 6.22! Because there's plenty of post-finale fics out there about Dean trying to reason with Cas. It's Bobby's turn. Thanks to @brilligspoons and @pocky_slash who both looked this over at some point.

A week passes, and it’s one of the most uneasy, tense weeks Bobby can recall in all his years. Dean spends the first few days pacing weary tracks in Bobby’s living room, half-empty bottles dangling from his hand, until Bobby hears him praying one night, his rough voice drifting through the stillness.

“Please, Cas. Come on, buddy. Just talk to me.”

But there’s nothing.

The next morning, Dean is gone, a hastily scribbled note about a hunt in Arizona. They haven’t heard from him in four days. He’s got three more before Bobby starts filling up his voicemail and tracking his sorry ass down, but until then, Dean can have his space. Bobby knows a thing or two about grieving.

Except that’s the real bitch of it: Cas isn’t gone. Just changed. Just lost. And none of them want to believe that he can’t be found again. None of them want to admit that it’s time to start poring through lore to see if there’s anything about _killing God_ because that’s what it’ll come to in the end.

Bobby leaves Sam sprawled across his couch, half asleep with the television on, and wanders out back, beyond the workshed, out of sight of the house.

“Cas.” He knows it’s probably pointless; if Cas won’t make an appearance for Dean, he’s certainly not gonna pop down for him. But he has to try. “Cas, I know you can hear me. You could always hear us. You were in the middle of a war and you could hear us, so don’t try to pretend we ain’t coming through loud and clear now.”

He waits for a moment, straining for the telltale rustle of wings, the odd displacement of air.

Nothing.

He clears his throat and tries again. “Come on. You afraid of one measly little human? I thought you were a god now. Ain’t no harm in talking.”

“I could destroy you with a thought.”

He wheels around on the spot, and Castiel is standing there, hands in his pockets, that same euphoric smile on his face that Bobby remembers from the basement. It makes the hairs on the back of Bobby’s neck stand up, and precious little manages that these days.

He shakes it off and shrugs. "I'm an old man. You want to smite me for refusing to get down on my knees for a whiny brat like you, I reckon I'm past due anyway."

That eerie smirk of Cas's doesn't waver, but his eyes narrow just slightly. Bobby knows he’s got Castiel’s attention.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Cas?"

"Making things right," he answers simply.

"How? By killing everyone who disagrees with you? Eventually there ain't gonna be anyone left. Then what?"

"It no longer concerns you."

"Concerns me? This don't concern me?" Bobby laughs. He can't help it. He takes his hat off and rubs his head, a nervous gesture he can't control but doubts Cas will pick up on. "Cas, this concerns the hell outta me. And the boys. Whether you like it or not, you’re a part of this little screwed up family of ours."

"Not anymore,” Cas says, shaking his head.

It shouldn’t hurt the way it does, not from a creature he would have hunted a few years ago, not from something he’s considering hunting _now_. Except somewhere along the way Cas stopped being a _thing_ , even with the constant reminders of how not human he was.

"No, see, the thing about family is you don't get to pick when you want 'em around. You're stuck with 'em. Family keep each other safe. Even when you don't agree, even when you can't fight by their side, you don't let them self-destruct."

Cas breathes out, and it’s almost a laugh. "I don't need protecting."

"You do. You don't see it, but you do. This won't end well, son. No matter what. We ain't gonna bow to you. Kill us if you want, but it ain't gonna happen. So either way, you end up alone."

"I won't be alone," Cas says, slowly like he's explaining to a child. "People will worship me. I'm going to build a better world, far superior to the one my Father abandoned. I'll be a god worthy of their love."

"You want us to worship you? You want us to say it?” Bobby shrugs. “Okay, fine. You're stronger than us. You're more powerful than us. Smarter. Now. What's that got you but a whole heap of nothin'? Don't you get it? Worship like that don't mean anything. You can't _demand_ that people love you. They'll love you out of fear of the consequences. What's better about that? You want worship, Cas? You ever seen the way those two look at you? The way Dean--"

"Dean refused to help me. After everything that I did for him," Cas says, voice sharp, eyes narrowed, his hands curling into fists.

And that’s it. Right there. _Dean._ It’s always come down to Dean.

"You _all_ refused," Cas adds, but it’s too late. He’s shown his hand.

“We did nothing _but_ try to help you,” Bobby says, stepping closer, resisting the urge to jab a finger in Cas’s chest. It’s hard to remember sometimes--even now--that Cas is so much more than the stiff, awkward man he appears as. It is too easy to think of him as just another one of his boys who needs some sense knocked into him. “You’re the one who didn’t want to hear it.”

“You--!” Cas clenches his jaw and breathes out slow, calming himself before going on. “You called me away from my duties at the first sign of trouble for the past year with no regard for what I was facing. Is that what you call ‘help’?”

“Don’t give me that. Every time Dean asked you how things were going upstairs, you dismissed it. Said we couldn’t understand and there was nothing we could do. And yeah, maybe he took you for granted. Heck, maybe we all did. It’s a lonely life, hunting. When you find someone you can depend on, sometimes you get to depending on ‘em too much.”

Bobby takes a deep breath and is surprised when it shakes just a bit. “Stop this. Please, Cas. I'm asking you. Because Dean won't anymore."

Cas's gaze slides off to the side, and it's the first time he's broken eye contact since he landed. "He's frightened."

"Yeah. _For you_. You don't think he wouldn't take on all those souls himself if it meant you'd walk away from this?"

"It's a foolish idea,” Cas says quietly. “It would kill him."

"Hasn't stopped him before, doubt it'll stop him now," Bobby says with a shrug.

Cas opens his mouth to say something, then stops himself. He swallows--such an incredibly human thing to do--and Bobby remembers the powerless angel who helped them face down Lucifer with only his two hands and his wits. His chest tightens, but he breathes it away as best he can.

“We’re worried about you, Cas. We care about you. _He_ cares, I promise you. He’s just never been one for sayin’ it.”

Cas continues to look off to the side, avoiding Bobby’s gaze, jaw set.

“Cas.”

“Tell Dean...tell him I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

The angel meets his eye just for a second, and there’s something there, just a hint of the old Cas, and then suddenly he’s gone, the empty air still and silent once again.

“Balls.”


End file.
